Real Men Wear Skirts
by kittyebony13
Summary: Alaska. Land of the Midnight Sun. Home of furry animals with big nasty pointy teeth. And now residence of Envy, UK native, whose new-found father has a pure Scottish heritage. But so does Trisha Elric.... Alaska will never be the same again.
1. Greetings from a Polar Bear

**M'kay, so... I'm sorry! Really! It's just that I've been stuck on page two of THREE different things I've been meaning to complete, and I finally got fed up with staring at the computer screen and wrote this down. It finished itself, so I'm going to give it liberty and put it on here. If will be updated once I get past evil page numero dos. *glares***

**Anyhoo, this is an idea that randomly presented itself... sometime. Okay, so I don't remember when. I'm terrible at that. No, actually, that's a lie. I remember now. It happened just this Saturday, the 27th of June, when my friend and I went to the Highland Games thingie down at the Lion's Club, and I thought how funny it would be if Envy wore a kilt. One thing led to another, and... _voila_.**

**Basically, the premise of this entire, pointless, fanfic is that Envy has to go live with his dad, who has Scottish ancestry, who also happens to live in Eagle River, Alaska. Yes, it will be Edvy. No, I'm not entirely sure when. Seeing as I plan to set them loose in my school, I need to know a bit about Junior year before I do, so... we'll see.**

**You know the drill: don't own. Never will.**

**WARNING: Yaoi (though not just yet, so... you're safe for now) and a bit of language. And that nothing happens. I'm sorry!

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**

One

Greetings from a Polar Bear

* * *

This certainly had to be the longest flight in the history of airplanes and international travel. It was so long that Envy felt like he'd been on this stupid plane for days, possibly years, and not almost seven hours. God, he was so _bored!_

It wouldn't have been quite so bad if his iPod, which had been charged last night, hadn't mysteriously depleted three-quarters of its battery all by itself and consequently died two hours back **(1)**. It now sat at the bottom of his backpack, where he would shun it for all of three more hours until he remembered how much he needed it. The earphones were plugged into the little armrest thing, and he watched the tiny TV with hooded eyes. His neck was getting a crick from the weird angle.

The movie wasn't even that great. It was some stupid musical that involved lots of singing and dancing with a bizarre techno background. Not that Envy objected to techno—he had a sizeable collection of it on his dead (here he sent waves of hate towards his poor bag) iPod—but it looked weird with a bunch of middle-aged women writhing around to it. Just to amuse himself, he kept switching between the English and German tracks, where he managed to miss important parts of the story line and end up even more spectacularly confused than at the start.

The worst part was that the movie wasn't even a half hour through, and it was basically a nine-and-a-half hour flight. First, he'd have to suffer through this, and then when it was over, he'd have to stare at that _fucking_ map with the little airplane symbol secreting a red line. Envy knew from previous experience that if that stupid thing wasn't there, the time went by faster.

And that wasn't even the worst bit. The worst part was that he was stuck in the middle of three seats, squashed between two overweight women who kept leaning around him to jabber in German. He didn't know any German, and they didn't know any English. And that was why he couldn't even read the in-flight magazines—every one of them was in _Deutsch._

Envy sighed and nudged his bag off his foot, which was starting to fall asleep. This was awful. Damn Dante for being a stupid bitch and getting them into this mess in the first place.

Dante Peccato was infamous for both being very beautiful and very stupid. Every one of her seven children had a different father, and five of those fathers were married men at the time. The entire world knew this, as Dante had a penchant for getting on the covers of gossip magazines, and so after seven repeat offenses men finally learned, and so Envy only had one little brother rather than ten.

Dante had been using plastic surgery to stay young-looking, but during his lifetime the effects stopped working. His oldest brother, Pride, was in his early forties, which put Dante at nearly sixty years of age, and it was finally showing. She'd stopped being able to draw in the paparazzi three years ago, when Envy was thirteen, and when some American movie star had refused her advances, she'd finally snapped.

Of course the children had watched with as much interest as anyone else when the man disappeared, but it had come as a great shock when Envy had opened the door one day to discover the police on their doorstep.

The only reason the investigation was wrapped up in two years and not two days was because Dante finally did something semi-useful with her money and bought a good lawyer. There were all sorts of contortions within the legal system, most of which went miles over Envy's head, but they all finally concluded in a murder conviction three weeks back, and most of the rest of Dante's money was spent tracking down four of those seven fathers, to inform them that they had children to (if only temporarily) support before they could take care of themselves.

For Lust and Greed, it wasn't so horrible, a fact that had Envy constantly fuming. _They_ were old enough to be in University, and so _they_ didn't have to move anywhere. All their fathers had to do—Greed's was even still mostly single—was provide a tiny bit of financial support before they graduated.

Wrath and Envy, at twelve and sixteen respectively, didn't have that luxury. They both were told to pack their bags, stuck on airplanes, and shipped off. Wrath was going to Italy—he was the other one with the single father, but the huge Italian family would probably be good for him—while Envy was headed off to somewhere he had only recently found out was actually _part_ of the United States, rather than another province of Canada, as he had originally assumed** (2)**. Sure, now that he thought about it, the little dividing line was a _tad_ suspicious, but how was he supposed to know?

As if that wasn't bad enough, actually _getting_ to Alaska proved to involve more contortions than Dante's legal issues did. First, he had to get up at an ungodly three o'clock in the morning for a six-thirty take-off from London Heathrow, just so he could get to Frankfurt to catch a nine-and-a-half hour flight into Anchorage. Why they even had a continuous flight going there was another question he couldn't answer. He couldn't figure out why all of these German people wanted to get to _Alaska_ of all places. Maybe if he asked a conspiracy theorist he'd get an answer.

But no. Everything that had happened thus far he could handle. He could deal with Dante killing someone. He could deal with being separated from his family. He could deal with being shipped off into the wilderness to live in an igloo and drive around on a dogsled. But what he could _not_ deal with was his father. His father and his father's fucking _family_.

Envy thought that the drama of his life would make a good soap opera. His father, Leath MacDougal (how Scottish could you _get?_) came to visit his family in Edinburgh, where he met Dante and proceeded to have a three-week-fling with her while his wife, Rachel, stayed at home with their baby son.

But wait! It gets worse! No sooner does Leath MacDougal get home but his wife is telling him that she's pregnant. And then two weeks later Dante is calling him up, saying the exact same thing. This leads to the rather awkward result that Envy was born early and only a week after his half-sister, Moibeal, who was born late. Obviously, Rachel wasn't too pleased when Scotland Yard called her house to tell her that her husband's bastard son was on his way to their house. Envy wasn't looking forward to meeting any of them. He'd rather live to see his twenties, thanks.

He'd said this to the detectives, but they'd only laughed and told him that he was funny before locking him in a metal bird and sending him off to his doom. Envy swore vengeance that would be hard to accomplish on the opposite side of the globe, as well as incredibly futile, seeing as he'd already be dead.

Envy finally stopped his mind from rewinding through his life by coming to the conclusion that the movie, with its increasingly annoying songs and quickly dissolving plot, was driving him mad. He unplugged the headphones and leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes.

He didn't feel tired at all. Sure, he'd passed out on the flight to Frankfurt, but that was as much sleep as his body was allowing him. Envy hoped that he wasn't becoming an insomniac like Dante.

There really wasn't any way to express the sheer _sluggishness_ of the minutes. He refused to open his eyes, but it felt like _days_ before the flight attendants were coming around, passing out customs claims sheets. That took a bit to fill out, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been, he supposed. The thing that took the longest was tracking down his passport number.

After that, Envy tucked the sheets into his passport and stuck that in his carryon bag. Then he tilted his head back once more and tried to sleep.

It didn't work. But, finally, the next time he looked up, they only had thirty minutes until touchdown in Anchorage. His heart leapt slightly. He'd survived this interminable plane ride! Soon, the only things to fight would be jet lag of epic proportions and his father's family. Even that last one seemed surmountable compared to his sheer boredom.

Still, that thirty minutes had to be the longest thirty minutes of Envy's life. Five minutes before they landed, he decided that flights from Germany to Alaska were not to be recommended, and he was never going on one again.

The actual landing wasn't bad—he was barely jostled at all, though that might have had less to do with the pilot's skill and more with the two chunky women pinning him in place—and Envy leaned over as far as he could to see out the nearest window. He couldn't see much, but it looked grey. Great. Sure, from living in the UK one got used to grey skies, but he'd been hoping for some blue. Evidently, the weather couldn't give a damn what he wanted.

Getting off took _forever_, but at least he could stand and stretch out his limbs. The only bad thing that happened was that he whacked one of the women in the head with his bag while swinging it over his shoulder, and then didn't know how to apologize. She walked off in a huff, muttering to her friend in German.

Once he had actually gotten off the plane, he got stuck in the customs line. At this point, Envy was beginning to suspect a worldwide conspiracy to make a traveler's life hell. He checked his watch. It was nearly twelve noon here, and he _did_ feel a tad hungry. Maybe this jet lag wouldn't be so bad as he'd thought.

This part of customs wasn't too terrible, once he actually got to a booth. The agent didn't do much more than ask him a few routine questions and check over the sheets he'd filled out. Apparently, his answers didn't make him sound insane or anything, and the agent handed him back his passport and sent him on his way. Goodie.

At least when he arrived in the baggage collection area (down a set of escalators, and into a dusty room with possibly the most derelict conveyer belt he'd ever seen) the bags had been moving for some time already, and it didn't take much time to find his pair of suitcases. The one was fairly ordinary, with only one red stripe down each side to make it stand out, but the second he had borrowed from Lust. It was magenta, with putrid orange polka dots all over it. He wouldn't look at anyone when tugging it from the belt.

There was only one more hoop to jump—a huge x-ray machine in the next room. The guard at the door asked if Envy was a resident or not, and when he got a "no," sent him to the machine. Envy sighed and heaved both suitcases up. Neither of the other two guards saw anything suspicious, and sent him off without another word.

Envy was so relieved to be _leaving_ this godforsaken airport that he almost sprinted out of that room and into the large hall thing. He slowed to a stop here, looking around curiously. A plane hung from the ceiling; gold letters saying WELCOME TO ALASKA curved over the door, with a metal representation of the state, colored blue, and a yellow star where Anchorage was set behind it. Some random native art was scattered around the place** (3)**. Envy shrugged and, wondering how he would recognize whoever had been sent to pick him up, wandered toward the crowd of people gathered near the doors.

A nervous throat clearing behind him had him turning automatically, almost tripping himself by running his shin into the magenta suitcase. Damn thing. Oh, how he hated it.

"You're Envy, aren't you?" the man said, twisting his fingers awkwardly before him. Envy looked at him closely. The stranger towered over him by easily a head and a half. He had curly auburn hair, grey eyes, a bit of scruff, and just a trace of a Scottish accent. "Yes, you are. You—you look just like her."

"Who?" The word was out of Envy's mouth before he could stop it.

"Dante," the man explained with a small smile. He held out his hand. "I'm Leath MacDougal."

"My dad," Envy finished for him, setting one suitcase aside so he could take the guy's hand, gingerly. This had to be the weirdest meeting ever—even odder than some on television. Envy really didn't look anything like his dad, and that only made it more awkward.

Leath coughed nervously and shoved his hands into his pockets, looking around at everything except Envy. "So, how was your flight?"

"Long." Envy was no better, fiddling with the handle on the black-and-red suitcase. He didn't know what to say. He'd dressed normally enough for first impression's sake—jeans, a shirt from Topman, and a sweater—but it didn't make him any calmer.

A moment of awkward silence descended between them before Leath did the throat-clearing thing again and finally activated. "Well, there's no point in standing around. The car's out front—hang on, let me get that." He lurched forward and grabbed the evil magenta suitcase before Envy could get a firm grip on it. "It's this way." He waved one hand toward the doors under the sign and headed that way.

Envy followed reluctantly. The mass of people was still clustered in front of it, and so it was only luck that he glimpsed the glimmer of glass. He looked over automatically and almost jumped out of his skin.

A giant, stuffed polar bear had been set in a glass case. It reared up on its hind legs, mouth open in a snarl. It must've been half as tall again as Envy was at the very least. He could only gape at it and wonder distantly if the person to kill it had been a superhuman.

He saw Leath coming back through the doors, looking confused, but couldn't make the effort to do anything about it. Envy's newfound dad walked up to stand beside him, propping one hand on his hip. The position rung bells and Envy suddenly felt a lot better—evidently he'd inherited something from the guy after all.

"Yep, that's a polar bear," Leath sighed. "You don't have to worry about them around here—only black and grizzly. Oh, and don't forget the moose."

"The what?" Envy asked faintly.

"Moose," he repeated. "They wander through our backyard all the time, so you'll see some there. Come on." Once again he started towards the doors, tugging the suitcase behind him.

Envy tore his gaze from the polar bear and stumbled away from it. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he muttered under his breath, stepping out of the automatic doors and into a cool, autumn-like breeze. He automatically drew his sweater closer and looked around with some trepidation.

It looked almost normal, except for the weird pencil-shaped trees and the mountains he could see in the distance. That, and the huge white bear in the lobby of the terminal behind him **(4)**.

* * *

**(1) This happened to me once. It sucked.**

**(2) Some people actually think that. Ask me how I know. Either that, or they think Alaska belongs to Russia. Or it's just it's own country. Or that it lives down near Hawaii. Personally, I think people like that need to use their heads a little.**

**(3) Envy has landed in the North Terminal of the Ted Stevens International Airport. It sucks.**

**(4) That polar bear really is there, in case you're wondering. When I first moved here, I gaped at it. Now I laugh at people who take pictures in front of it. It's kind of hypocritical. A bit.**

**Yep, so... that's the start of my Alaska/Scottish/Kilts fic! Yes, lame, but I think I get _some_ points for the setting. I'm going to have some fun with this.... *rubs hands together like a mad scientist***

**For those of you who have read If, you know that I feed off reviews like a... I don't know... let's go with, like a polar bear feeds off fish. There. For those of you who haven't, I'd really appreciate it if you'd tell me what you think! Flames are totally welcomed. And I'll love you forever. Pretty please review? Thanks!**


	2. The Yellow House

**Aha! It is finally done! Yay! Sorry for the long (well, long for me) wait-- I feel terrible about it, but what can you do? I have three other things I need to do so updates will be slow for a while. Plus surgery in a week. Yuck.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own FMA. Or Alaska. Or Ford (my family does own a Ford F150, though). Or _The Wizard of Oz_. Or practically anything else you see in here. However, I do own the house. Well, my parents do. Whatever.**

**WARNING: bromance**

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Two

The Yellow House

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Envy followed Leath out across the pick-up area and into a small parking lot on the other side. It was full of cars, most of which seemed impossibly dirty. Clumps of people stood around them, chattering in German or English, apparently overjoyed at these reunions. Envy felt like someone bound for a funeral that accidentally ended up attending a wedding.

Leath had to fight against the magenta suitcase only three times before they reached a white pickup truck. He unlocked it with the set of keys he'd pulled from his pocket and pulled open the passenger-side door. Envy could see that the only door to get into the back set of seats locked in under the larger portal, with the handle on the side of the smaller door** (1)**. Leath grabbed the latch and pulled it open, hefting the evil suitcase into the backseat. He turned around and grabbed the second one before Envy could protest.

"Your backpack can go on here, too," Leath grunted, shoving hard against the black-and-red bag to make it go farther in—the magenta one had wedged itself and was, once again, proving itself to be quite difficult. Leath gave up with a groan and walked around to the other side. Envy tossed his backpack in on top of his luggage and shut that door before clambering into the passenger seat.

Leath hopped in the driver's side and slammed his door. He shoved the key into the ignition and turned on the car before swiveling to put on his seat belt. Envy copied him.

"So," Leath said, pulling out of the parking space. "How's your mom doing?"

Envy blinked at him. "Well… she's in jail."

"Right, right," the man said distractedly. "Of course. Er, how long have you lived in the UK?"

"My whole life." Envy looked out the window, intrigued at the strange city laid out before him. It was long, low, and flat—he could see a few taller buildings in the distance, but that was about it. The gray clouds chopped the mountains in half, and it wasn't nearly as green as his home. Plus, the air felt so much _lighter_—not nearly as humid.

"That would explain the accent, then," Leath murmured, not looking at him, either.

"What? Oh… right." He had to remind himself that, British accent or no, he didn't have to learn Italian, like Wrath did. At least they spoke the mother tongue here, even if they couldn't spell it right.

"Okay, here's what's going on," Leath said suddenly, and much more seriously. Evidently he was done with the pointless small talk. Envy looked over at him, wary and starting to get a little frightened once more. "Both Euan and Moibeal—the kids—are over at friends' houses until tomorrow morning. Rachel is at home. We all thought it would be better for you two to work something out before we throw Euan and Bea into the mix."

Envy nodded. It seemed sensible enough, and at this rate he wouldn't even have to face his half-siblings. Maybe death wouldn't be as bad as he thought.

The truck pulled past a minivan and out onto a road with two lanes on either side. Envy bit his lip slightly, imagining the somewhat larger highways back home.

He couldn't help thinking that the whole place was kind of grey. It almost seemed custom-built to nudge along people who were already depressed. Of course, some of it was the light, but it was nothing like England, and Envy already knew which one he preferred. This place was just too weird, too _foreign_. He'd gone to New York City once with a few of his siblings, but that was nothing like here. _Here_ was like living out in the wilderness in the middle of a city. It was just… _weird_.

And the drivers _sucked._ They all seemed to go a steady sixty on a seventy-mile-an-hour road. In a straight line. It was completely impossible to pass anyone.

People were walking around on the sidewalks, talking and laughing. At least none of _them_ seemed too weird, even if they dressed awfully casually and a lot of the guys had pants sagging down to their knees. That part was a bit much, especially because none of them were Envy's type. But the girls were pretty, a fact that he was more than usually willing to appreciate. Relationships weren't really his forte.

"So… um…." Envy fished desperately for a conversation topic. "What are, um, your kids like?"

Leath looked surprised. "Bea and Euan?"

"Er—yeah. Your other kids. Not me. I know what I'm like." Envy laughed nervously. "Duh." He was babbling, but he couldn't stop. He was even _blushing_ a little. Damn it.

"Well, yes." Leath cleared his throat, keeping his eyes fixed on the road (which was, you know, a _good_ thing). "Euan likes to play soccer. A lot."

"Soccer?" Envy repeated blankly, before he remembered. "Oh! Right. Football. Football's good." Actually, football was one of the—okay, the _only_ sport Envy enjoyed. Soccer. They call it soccer here. Weirdos.

"Yeah, he's on the team," Leath said uncomfortably. "They have a season now and at the end of the year. You know, because of winter and everything."

"Right."

"And Bea…" Leath took a deep breath and plunged on. "Bea likes volleyball and basketball. She does those a lot. When, um, the volleyball and basketball seasons are going on, that is. Obviously."

"Yep." Envy went back to looking out the window. The silence was awkward, but not nearly as awkward as the actual conversations.

They were on what Leath called the "Glenn Highway," which had upgraded to three lanes rather than just two. It stretched out towards the mountains, and it didn't take long for them to speed out of sight of the last bits of city and rocket down the road. Trees surrounded it on both sides—tall, spindly, looking distinctly sickly. Now that he was looking, Envy noticed a strange, metal fence holding the trees back. Every few hundred yards or so, a bizarre sort of opening appeared, with metal rods sticking out the sides of the gate.

"What is that?" Envy asked, pointing as they sped by another one.

Leath didn't even have to look. "It's a fence to keep the moose from wandering onto the road and getting hit."

"Oh." He stopped pointing. Suddenly, that line from Wrath's favorite movie had never seemed so appropriate: "Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore." Envy had always wanted to say something derogatory there, but Wrath (with Sloth's help) had consistently shut him up. Now, though, he had to bite his tongue to keep the stupid line from flying out of his _own_ mouth, not just that airhead Dorothy's.

They trundled on down the highway, passed a factory that had cones that reminded Envy of a nuclear power plant, and then a truck weighing station. After that, Leath started to hug the rightmost lane, heading towards a sign that said HIGHLAND DRIVE and then beneath it ANCHORAGE LANDFILL. Oh, goodie.

Envy felt his heart rate leap with the nervousness, and he clenched his fingers so tightly into a fist that his knuckles went white—well, even whiter than before. He took deep, calming breaths to keep himself from hyperventilating. He had to savor his life while he still had it.

Leath took the turn-off and went down towards the four-way intersection. He pulled off into the turn lane and put on his blinkers, heading down a road entitled Yosemite.

"Your school is just up here on the right," he said, jerking his head out Envy's window. "You'll see it in a second."

Envy, grateful to have something to do, looked out. They passed a thicket of trees, and he blinked in astonishment.

The school was actually rather small—only two stories—with what looked to be a gymnasium on the right side and a wing of classrooms on the left. It was made of slate- and jet-colored bricks, with the smooth parts on top painted yellow and orange. It was, in fact, a very pretty school, and doubtlessly had a stunning view once the clouds let up.

They were past it before he could blink and pulling to a stop at a T intersection. A sign by Envy's window proclaimed this to be EAGLE POINTE. The superfluous "E" at the end of "Point" irked him, but it was in metal so there was nothing he could do about it.

Leath turned right, narrowly missed an old lady walking her Chihuahua, and turned right again almost immediately. Envy looked around him in interest. The houses here were much larger as a whole than in England.

They went up a long, curving hill, passed an empty lot with a tipped-over FOR SALE sign, and stopped at another T intersection, where Acadia merged with Lassen. Leath turned right _again_, passed another pair of empty lots, both covered with a tangle of trees and dirt, and into a small cul-de-sac. He didn't go for the one-story key-lime-pie-green house on the left, to Envy's enormous relief, but instead pulled up into the driveway of the pale yellow house on top of the hill. Envy blinked at it. It had blue trim. And a deck in the front yard.

Leath stopped the engine. "Well, here we are," he said unnecessarily. He opened his door and hopped out, leaving Envy to wrestle with his buckle with his now-numb hands and almost fall out himself. Leath steadied him automatically and opened up the back door to grab the suitcases. Envy rescued his backpack but wasn't able to retrieve either of his bags. Leath wouldn't let him.

And so, resigned, he trailed after his newfound father, up the wooden steps, onto the small porch thing, and waited while Leath dredged up the key to unlock the door. It eased open with nary a creak, letting them into a light, spacious entryway. Leath shoved the suitcases inside (struggling a bit with the magenta one), while Envy looked around him, plight temporarily forgotten.

The ceiling was a ways above his head, the chrome chandelier dangling down. The spiral staircase vanished beyond the edge of the ceiling. It was made of some kind of light, attractive wood. The carpet looked clean and thick—probably springy. A few fake plants sat in the corners. A movement out of the corner of his eye caused Envy to look around wildly, fear returning with a jolt.

A cat stared back.

It was small, short for a cat, with little legs and a small head. Its tummy was too large for it and reminded Envy of Wrath's plushie toys. Most of its belly and legs was white, but splotches of orange, grey, and black decorated the rest of its body. Its eyes glittered, bright and green. It looked very soft. Envy smiled tentatively at it—something he'd always done, ever since he was little. He liked thinking that the animals could understand.

The cat _twitched_.

Envy stared at it in shock. He could have sworn that he had just seen a small spasm of the head, an eye convulsing slightly. But that couldn't be right—cats didn't twitch.

And then its whole _head_ rolled, like in that exorcist movie. Envy could only gape in complete astonishment as its head thrashed back and forth at a rate that made him faintly dizzy, before doubling up on itself and speeding away like a bullet. _Ba-dun, ba-dun, ba-dun_ went its little paws on the floor. Envy forced his mouth to close.

"Oh, that's Tibby," Leath told him with a small smile, seeing the expression on his face. "She's our cat."

"Huh," Envy said faintly.

Leath rolled the suitcases to the base of the stairs and set them there. He ignored the magenta one when it fell over and beckoned Envy after him, down a strangely L-shaped hallway. Envy swallowed nervously and followed.

The hardwood ended in slate-colored tiles; Leath walked along them like he was a man headed to the gallows. Envy came after with much the same air, into a spacious kitchen. The living room on the left became the immediate source of attention—or, rather, the woman sitting on the couch did.

She still looked well for a woman of forty-seven, Envy thought dazedly. Her fawn-brown hair had been tied up at the nape of her neck in a sleek bun. Her eyes—bright and, at the same time, a deep brown—alternated between her husband and his bastard child. Envy felt like crawling into a ditch and dying there. A splotch of white in the corner of the room diverted his attention for a second, and he spotted the cat. Tibby stared at him, her tail thrashing, green eyes completely swallowed up by pupil. He gulped and looked away.

"Leath, maybe you should go outside for a while?" Rachel MacDougal suggested quietly. Her voice was just like her—soft, seemingly gentle, but with an undeniable undercurrent of power. Envy wondered if she'd stab him with a kitchen knife or suffocate him with the pillow. She could do both, he knew.

Leath ducked his head and left hastily. Envy twisted his hands in front of him and looked down at the tiles.

"Come here," she ordered, still softly. Envy obeyed silently, sparing only a glance for the homicidal cat on his way over. Rachel patted the space on the couch next to her, and he took it. It felt even more awkward here than across the room.

He could feel her eyes on him, and though he was too afraid to meet them, they made the back of his neck prickle. "You're Envy." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, ma'am," he forced himself to murmur. At least his words were discernable.

"I suppose that your mother really isn't all that smart," she said, her voice tinged with amusement. Envy forced a sort of chuckle. It came out breathless and higher than usual.

"She's not," he agreed, fighting down his hysteria. This woman had every right to be angry with him.

"I'm not mad at you," Rachel told him quietly, and the words caught him off guard enough that he looked up at her, eyes wide. She smiled slightly. "At least, I'll try not to be. It's not your fault. _You_ didn't make my husband and your mother do anything."

Envy could only stare at her, so shocked that he couldn't respond. He had never expected those words from her. A flutter of hope stirred in his chest. So he wasn't going to die?

"Of course, I can't promise that my children will extend the same courtesy," she went on, very seriously. "I will expect them to at least try not to be too vicious, but their father betrayed them."

Finally, he was free to look away, his eyes seeking out the carpet. He rubbed the back of his head. "No. I understand."

"Good. As for you and me, I'll try not to treat you differently than my own children. I'll go easy on you for now, until you learn the rules. And please, don't hesitate to tell me if I'm being unfair." She smiled at him. "All right?"

Envy doubted he'd ever have the courage to, but he nodded anyway.

Rachel sighed once more and got to her feet. "Come along, I'll show you to your room."

Envy scrambled up to follow her—there was a blur of white—and something was suddenly attached to his leg, little teeth digging into his jeans, claws poking through to his skin. Envy yelped in surprise, but the cat didn't let up from its savaging of his limb.

"Ah, I see you've met Tibby the Terrible." Rachel chuckled and leaned down, easily prying the cat off. She cradled the thing in her arms, and it licked its lips, ears flattened, glaring at Envy. He took a step back. "We call her The Beast, or just Beast, most of the time. She's evil. Here."

And without any warning whatsoever, she dumped the cat into his arms and walked off, gesturing for him to follow. Envy came, desperately trying to get the cat to stop biting his shoulder. It _hurt!_

"All of our rooms are up here," Rachel called down the steps. "Yours is what used to be the guest bedroom, the first room on the left."

"Okay." It looked like she needed some sort of response. He finally managed to pry The Beast's claws and teeth from his shirt and held onto her tightly. Envy couldn't let her get at him again.

He arrived at the top to another slash of hardwood. Rachel had disappeared into what was apparently going to be his room. He wandered on in.

It was small, but he was used to that—a bed pushed up in the middle of the back wall, a small bookcase beside it. A dresser sat on the right wall and a desk directly to his right. The rest of the place was bare—they were giving him room to express himself, which Envy was extremely grateful for, but it made the room seem cold. Un-lived in.

He was glad, though, for the opportunity to drop Tibby on the plain white comforter. The cat looked him over, seemed to change her mind, twitched, and then curled up to take a nap.

"So… yes, I think that's it for now." Rachel turned back to him. "Bea and Euan won't be back until tomorrow, around noon, so you have peace and quiet until then. Jet lag is awful, but it's not so bad in this direction as the other way around. You'll be fine." She headed out the door. "I'll get Leath to bring your things up!" she called back over her shoulder, and then Rachel was gone.

Envy suddenly didn't know what to do. All of that worry had been for nothing. He walked over and sat gingerly on the same bed as The Beast. She didn't even look at him. He carefully reached out a hand and petted her. Tibby really was very soft, and this time she didn't try to attack him.

* * *

**(1) I really tried to find a better way to explain this, I really did. It's just like our truck. There's only one mini-door that leads to the back seats, and it sticks in behind the big passenger side one so you have to open that one to get to it and close the mini one before you can close the big one. And that still doesn't make sense. Try looking it up if you're still confused (which you probably are).**

**Tibby is my cat. She wormed her way in. I'm truly sorry for any psychological damage she may have caused. Beastie iz evil like dat.**

**Anyhoo, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter! I would be so grateful if you'd do so again and tell me what you liked, didn't like, hated, found confuzzling, etc. Thank you!**


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